


Mon Esprit

by sweetcrude89



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Gil Arroyo Whump, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Malcolm Bright Needs a Hug, Protective Malcolm Bright, Serial Killers, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23585506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetcrude89/pseuds/sweetcrude89
Summary: Fill for prompt in Prodigal Son Kink Meme: Gil gets kidnapped by a sadistic killer they are chasing. Every day the team doesn't find him Malcolm gets more desperate especially when the killer starts taunting the team. By the time they do find Gil Malcolm has a very hard time not crossing the very carefully constructed line that keeps him from being like his father, and with the shape Gil is in when they find him Dani and JT are very tempted to look the other way this time. It's only a quiet plea from Gil that keeps Malcolm from becoming the monster he's been terrified of becoming.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 40
Collections: Prodigal Son Kink Meme





	1. Chapter 1

_— Now —_

Malcolm felt a wave of calm flow over his body, chilling the fire he had felt seconds before. He advanced on the prone man like a hunting lion, slowly, deliberately. If only Dr. Whitley could see him now. The knife glinted in his hand. His father would be so proud.

A barely audible broken whisper from behind him cut into his musing. “Malcolm. Don’t do this. Not for me… please.”

Malcom just gripped the knife harder.

_— 5 days earlier —_

Brown eyes snapped open, shooting around rapidly to trying to take everything in. The room was dimly lit, everything blurry. With a groan Gil tried to sit up only to find himself completely immobilized. Glancing down he could barely make out a band across his chest. Links rattled from where his hands were cuffed down by his sides and while he couldn’t see his feet he could feel his ankles were similarly restrained.

He tried to wet his lips, his mouth felt cotton dry and his head pounded in time with his heart.

The mattress he was on was thin, he could feel the springs from the metal bed frame digging through. He tried to rattle the frame but it didn’t shift at all, probably bolted to the ground.

The light flared on, it felt like needles shooting into skull and he couldn’t hold back his moan.

“Oh Lieutenant, you’re awake!”

Blinking through the pain Gil tried to level a glare at the man who’d just entered the room,it was hard when all he could feel was a cold wave of fear. Tom Prescott, the serial killer he and his team had been hunting for days, was standing in the doorway. “Mr. Prescott.”

Tom grinned manically, clapping with glee. “Oh I can tell you are going to be fun Lieutenant.”

He went to work bench on the far side of the room, blocking Gil’s view as he proceeded to pull out several tools. He whistled as he did so.

Gil knew this was all meant to unsettle him. He was loathe to admit it was working. He knew what Tom did to his victims, what was going to happen to him. His team wasn’t expecting to hear from him until tomorrow morning, no one would know he was missing. He struggled to keep his breathing even, to not let his growing apprehension show through.

Tom wheeled back around, twirling a pair of scissors in his fingers. “You know the first time I saw you I knew had to get your attention somehow. I loved watching you chase me.” He clambered onto the bed, straddling Gil’s lap. Gil clenched his jaw and maintained angry eye contact and trying to project the sense of calm that he was rapidly losing. Tom dragged his scissors down his captive’s chest slowly. “Your whole team was just so pretty. But you Lieutenant, you’re something else. Captivating.” Gil breathed out sharply when the point of the blades were pressed sharply into his sternum. “So I had to capture you.”

“Prescott. Tom. You don’t want to do this.”

Tom leaned heavily onto the bound man, his breath hot and wet on Gil’s neck “Oh Lieutenant, I really really do.” He turned and bit hard on Gil’s earlobe before pulling back dragging the scissors all the way down to the hem of the black turtleneck. He started cutting, the points of the scissors lightly scratching with every snip. When he finally cut through the last threads at the neck he began idly drawing the points up and down the line of Gil’s throat, leaving faint red welts in its trail.

“The NYPD-“ Gil paused when the scissors were pressed harder onto his adam’s apple “my team will be coming for me Tom.”

Tom grinned happily. “I hope so. I really really hope they do. It’s been a while since I’ve had someone who could properly enjoy my work, and you Lieutenant, you’re going to be a masterpiece.”

He pushed the pieces of the turtle neck apart, exposing a broad expanse of chest. “The works Da Vinci could’ve created if he’d had a canvas like this.” He bent down and licked a long strip up to the crook of Gil’s neck, pausing to breath in deep. “Oh now that’s what a man smells like.” He quickly cut through the sleeves of the shirt and tugged it out from under Gil, tossing the scraps off to the side. He took a moment to stroke up and down the newly bared arms before he pulled himself off the bed and towards the door, pausing to put the scissors back on the workbench. “We’ll get started properly in the morning Lieutenant. Feel free to make as much noise as you’d like,” he waved around at the room. “Completely soundproof.”

The door shut, the bolt slide in place, the light flicked off, once again bathing the room in darkness.

Gil began thrashing against his restraints desperately but nothing budged. Defeated he forced himself to relax back down. He couldn’t give into panic. His team would find him. Malcolm will find him. It was only a matter of time and all he had to do was hold out until then. He just had to keep his faith in his people and he would be fine.

It would all be fine.

* * *

Malcolm shot up screaming, his dream still vivid in his head. Breathing heavily he glanced around his room, everything was the same, all his demons fading away into the dreamscape until just a strange deep nagging dread remained. He’d been unsettled, knocked off off-kilter, disturbed by his dreams before but had he had this crushing feeling of doom. He remembered that was a common sign of an impending heart attack. After a brief consideration Malcolm decided that he was not about to go into cardiac arrest. He was also not going to be getting any more sleep tonight. Sighing deeply he released himself from his cuffs and pulled out his mouth guard. A quick glance at the clock told him he’d gotten all of 3 hours of sleep. A record really.

He padded over to his bathroom and splashed some cold water on his face. the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than ever. This case had been hard on all of them. A sadistic serialkiller on a spree that threatened to rival his father’s. Some killers, Malcolm was loathe to admit, he could understand. An all consuming vision, a drive for revenge against those that wronged him, that made some sort of twisted sense. But this guy just seemed to want cause pain for pain’s sake.

There was no attempt at art or finesse, though he did seem to manage to keep his victims alive for at least three days. There was no pattern to his victims, he’d kidnapped a young hispanic boy right outside of his middle school in the Bronx, and the next week had taken a 87 year old white woman out of a nursing home out in Queens, and he’s killed all manner in between. There wasn’t even a pattern in what he did to each victim, he’d burn some and waterboard others. Sexual assault was common but not consistent, biting, cutting, branding, electrocution, anything he could do to torture was done but in no discernible pattern. Even Dr. Whitly had been perturbed when he saw the nature of the kills.

“There’s just no style here.” He’d complained, a surprising look of disgust on his face while flipping through the pictures of the crime scene. “Just brutality without meaning.”

They had figured out who the man responsible was almost immediately, he’d made no effort to keep from leaving DNA or fingerprints on any of his victims. But the man, Thomas Prescott, had old old money, and a lot of it, and money was great at hiding many a sin. Despite flooding the city with the man’s picture and description his whereabouts remained a mystery.

Fifteen bodies and counting. They had found his latest victim yesterday morning, a woman he’d snatched four days ago out of central park. Prescott would be on the hunt tonight.

The rush of adrenaline that accompanied his nightmares had finally faded, this new feeling of suffocating dread remained. Malcolm tried to think back on his dreams to figure out why. They’d been nothing new, the girl in the box, his father, John. Shaking his head to clear away the images he decided to do some yoga to try and relax.

What he really wanted to do was call Gil but it was 3 in the morning and the man had been running himself ragged on the case. Malcolm suspected it was the number of children that was really getting to Gil; six had been under the age of sixteen. Additionally the last few scenes they had found were practically designed to get und Gil’s skin. It was like he was taking every death that happened under his watch personally and it was starting to wear him down. Malcolm had considered talking to him about it, but unfortunately, he mused as he sank down into a warrior one position, he really didn’t have a leg to stand on in regards to healthy habits pursuing a case.

Malcolm worked through his katas, the dread remained though it had faded from crushing suffocation to a more irritating prickly sensation. It was 5:30. Gil would probably be up by now, he could give into the urge to call, though if Gil wasn’t awake he was loathe to steal any amount of sleep the man had managed to get just because of a dream. He wiped the sweat he’d worked up off his brow, he could just head into the precinct now. He could talk to Gil there.

Course of action decided he rolled up his mat and headed off to take a quick shower.


	2. Chapter 2

When Malcolm arrived at the precinct the other detectives were already there pouring over case files. He nodded his greetings and started setting his stuff on his desk.

“Gil in his office?” Dani asked, nodding to where the door was closed and the blinds were shut. It was unusual for Gil to keep his office closed like that but understandable considering. “I think I might have something from Prescott’s financials.”

JT shrugged, “I assumed so, haven’t seen him but the lights are on.”

Intrigued to hear what Dani may have found Malcolm and JT moved to follow her into the office.

Dani frowned when she realized the door was locked. “Gil?” she knocked. Receiving no answer she tried to peek through the gap in the blinds to see if he was even inside. Both men behind her jumped when she dropped the files in her hands and began frantically smashing her shoulder into the door. “Get this door open. Get it open!”

JT, without question, pulled her out of the way and used his larger size to smash the door open. The three of them gaped at what they saw. The room was trashed, furniture and papers strewn about.

“He was here?” Dani muttered, “How could he have been here?”

Malcolm barely heard her with the way his ears were ringing, the edges of his vision greying out like he was in a tunnel. He moved like he was in a trance towards the back wall of the office. Nailed to the wall was Gil’s id and badge, blood staining the gold shield.

“-colm” A warm hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him away from the wall. “Malcolm.”

Malcolm looked up helplessly at JT’s concerned face.

“CSIs are on their way. Are you getting anything from this?”

Malcolm shook his head trying to regain some focus. He pulled away from JT to attempt to look at the room with an objective eye. “No none of this makes sense. Prescott doesn’t do- he doesn’t do this.” He examined the way the files had been strewn across the office. “His grabs were always quick and dirty, but this…”

“This wasn’t a fight.” Dani cut in, “look at how everything is tossed around. This was done deliberately.”

“So Prescott grabbed Gil and stayed to toss the place? Was he looking for something?” JT asked.

“No, he was doing this to send a message. He’s escalating. He’s taunting us. This whole thing is supposed to show us how much smarter he is than us. That he can walk into the middle of the precinct and do whatever he wants and we can’t stop him.” Malcolm started pacing, all of this was a very bad sign for Gil, all of this escalation in grabbing his targets was likely to be matched in an escalation in his methods of torture.

JT cleared his throat and indicated the team of techies waiting by the door to start processing the scene. “There’ll be video of the bullpen, we can review that while the CSIs go through things here.”

Malcolm looked like he wanted to argue but Dani steered him out. He allowed her to lead but he kept twisting back to look at that badge.

By the time they were out of the office JT was on the phone with someone, nodding and agreeing with whatever the person on the other side was saying. “Thanks Rosa. Get her here now.” He hung up. “Meredith Prescott just landed in JFK. Units are bringing her in.”

“She’s finally back in the US? Why is she back now? We’ve been trying to get a hold of her for months.”

“Her visa will have expired. And she comes back here directly because she doesn’t want to give the impression she was hiding or planning on running. No need to tarnish what’s left of her personal reputation.” Malcolm muttered.

* * *

The door slammed open, jerking Gil back to awareness.

“Good morning Lieutenant!” Tom singsonged, bouncing into the room. He was rolling a metal tray ahead of him, the lip around the tray preventing Gil from being able to see the contents. “I hope you slept well.”

Gil glared silently.

“Oh I remember, you’re a grump without your coffee.” Tom rolled his tray to a stop next to the side of the bed and reached down to ruffle Gil’s hair. Gil jerked his head away. Chuckling Tom persisted, patting Gil’s cheek instead. “But we’ve got a lot of work to get done today.”

He turned back to his tray and picked up a sealed packet, opening it up to reveal an IV port.“Hope you don’t have a problem with needles. Putting this in will save a lot of time, all that having to find veins, placing lines. This’ll be a plug and play.”

Gil forced himself to not tense up when Tom started tapping his forearm, looking for the placement. “Don’t.”

Laughing Tom pressed the needle into skin and taping it in place. He picked up an iv bag and waggled it in front of Gil, “Breakfast time!”

“I’d prefer waffles.”

“Oh I’m sure.” Tom connected the bag and hung it up on something above Gil’s head. “But trust me, I’ve learned while preparing for you, best to keep an empty stomach during this.”

“Preparing for me?”

“Hmm, surely you’ve realized by now. All this is for you.”

Gil shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

“You really don’t remember me?” Tom pulled away frowning in confusion. “Oh wow, You have no idea who I really am.”

Gil racked his brain, trying to place the wild man in front of him, painfully aware of how much his life hinged on his next words. “I- I can’t, I’m sorry.”

Tom perked up, checking the iv again and organizing a few things on his tray. “You’ll remember. Now you just enjoy that little nutrient bag and I’ll be back in a little bit.”


	3. Chapter 3

Meredith Prescott was a reed thin tiny woman but she had a presence that could rival Jessica Whitly’s.

JT motioned her into the interrogation room where Dani and Malcolm were already waiting. “Mrs. Prescott. Please take a seat.”

She started in right away. “You want to know about Tommy.” There was no hint of nervousness or denial in her voice, just a straight forward matter of factness. “He’s the one murdering those people.”

Malcolm nodded. “Yes.”

She sniffed dismissively, “Well then, I would like to start off by saying he’s not my child." Dani, JT and Malcolm exchanged startled looks. "I didn’t want the bastard to begin with and he was trouble ever since. I only agreed to adopt him to prevent the scandal. As far as I am concerned he no longer has any association with my family.”

Dani frowned, “Scandal?”

“Roger’s youngest sister, Amelia, got herself knocked up when she was sixteen. She put up such a fuss whenever anyone suggested she get rid of the baby or put it up for adoption. Roger and I had only been married for a few months, and the good lord had spared me the burden of being able to have children of my own, it seemed like a good arrangement at the time.”Meredith seemed to have no qualms in laying everything out.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair. “You want to ask me where he might go, what his hobbies and habits are, who his friends are. The truth is I don’t know. I didn’t trouble myself with any of that sort of thing when he was a child, I certainly was not about to start after Roger died.”

She glanced around and saw the looks Dani and JT were shooting each other and she bristled, straightening up in her chair. “Before you start judging me, I don’t have a maternal bone in my body and I will not be ashamed of that. But even if I didn’t want the child I made sure Tommy had a perfectly adequate childhood, the best schooling and nannies money could buy. And Amelia doted on him. Up until high school if he wasn’t at boarding school he was with her. He got all the love he needed.”

“What happened at high school?”

“She died. End of his freshman year I believe.Amelia had a knack for making the exact worst choice available at any given moment. She married a boorish brute of a man, John Reston, and frankly his favorite hobby was beating the shit out of her. Everyone tried to intervene but she wouldn’t hear of leaving him. Then one day Tommy was having dinner at their house, he heard the commotion and called the police. They hauled Reston away, Amelia threw a fit and sent Tommy back to my home. She went to the station to drop the charges and on her way back they went over the railing on the Hudson Bridge. Nothing was ever recovered.” She shrugged and shook her head dismissively, “Thankfully Reston had a lot of money and Amelia left everything to Tommy. That cut down a lot on Roger’s guilt about the amount he had planned to leave for the boy.”

Dani groaned internally, thus far they had only looked at the Prescott assets. The name Reston hadn’t even been on their radar.

Malcolm was rapidly losing his patience with this cold woman. He slammed his hands on the table making everyone else jump.

“These people are dead because of Tom Prescott.” He spread the pictures of the various victims they had found on the table. She turned away in disgust. He shoved a picture of Gil forward. “This man is in danger and we have a chance to save him. So think, damnit, think. Where would Tom go?”

She gave a hurt sniff and glanced down at the picture in front of her. She froze and frowned, pulling the photo closer. “I know this man.”

Malcolm pulled back, startled, sharing similarly bewildered looks with JT and Dani. “What?”

“He didn’t have the mustache then. But yes, Detective Arroz?”

“Arroyo.”

“That’s it.” She nodded thoughtfully and pushed the picture back to Malcolm. “Never met him myself but I’d know that face anywhere. He’s the man who arrested John. Tommy had such case of hero worship for him, wouldn’t shut up about the man. Would save all the articles about him that he could. Oh when that serial killer, the Surgeon, was arrested the house looked like it had a snowdrift with all the clippings.”

Malcolm kept stepping back until his back hit the wall, hand pressed to his mouth. His mind was spinning as he considered the implications.

JT was shaking his head. “Gil never said anything.”

Meredith shrugged, keeping a concerned eye on Malcolm “Oh I doubt he knew. Amelia liked to pretend they were all a proper family, she probably told the officers he was her son. And there were no charges filed with the initial arrest.” For the first time in the interview something like regret passed over her face. “Tommy only met him the one time, but he made quite the impression. I think John terrorized Tommy so he was grateful for anyone who got rid of the man.”

Malcolm pulled the pictures toward him looking at them with a new lens. The random violence wasn't so random anymore. It was experimentation. First to get the attention of Major Crimes, next to hone in on what would get a reaction from Gil. What combinations of acts and victim would have the most impact. Gil had always been the target. Tom had Gil. Everything, Malcolm's eyes dart from victim to victim taking in all the graphic details, everything had been building up to this moment when Tom got Gil.

Malcolm barely got to the wastebasket in time to empty the meager contents of his stomach. Dani was there by his side to steady him in a flash. He leaned against her, gasping desperately, trying to figure out how to articulate the crushing panic he was feeling in that moment. She shook her head, she didn't need words to understand, and brushed the hair from his face. "I know Malcolm. I know."


	4. Chapter 4

Gil awoke suddenly, his head snapping up from where it was lolling his chest. He was no longer on the cot, but a quick once-over confirmed he was just as restrained in the chair. The port in his arm was still there, no longer attached to anything.

“Oh good, you’re awake again.” Gil’s head was yanked back by the hair. Tom grinned gleefully down at him, pulling harder while Gil grit his teeth against the pain. He ran his nails along the exposed neck, ‘I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.” He released Gils hair and spun around to the front of the seat so he could straddle Gil’s lap. “You know? I spent so much time building up to this moment, and now you’re here.” He clawed down Gil’s chest, eliciting a sharp intake of air. “And it’s so hard to pick where to begin. The possibilities are endless.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

Tom quirked an eyebrow, looking almost coy as he kept running his hands up and down Gil’s chest soothing over the scratches he’d left. “Well I needed to get your attention somehow.”

“You have my attention now. Why are you doing this?”

Tom’s hands stilled and something ugly flashed across his face, too quick for Gil to identify. “You didn’t pick me.”

“What?”

“You didn’t pick me. And that was fine. I understood. It wasn’t personal, you were just doing your job. Swooping in, saving the day, and disappearing again. That was fine, that’s what you did. But then you went and picked the Whitly boy.” His hands were now clenched painfully hard on Gil’s shoulders, nails embedding into the flesh.

“Malcolm?” A spike of fear went through Gil’s heart as he thought about Tom going after Malcolm. Malcolm, in some misguided attempt to rescue Gil would probably let Tom capture him and Gil knew he wasn’t strong enough to handle what would happen then. “No, don’t-“

Tom snarled and smacked Gil across the face. “Don’t. It’s just you and me here now, that’s how it’s going to end. Don’t go begging for his life now.”

Tom got off of Gil’s lap and picked up a syringe. “I suppose it is a bit unfair to continue to hold the fact you don’t remember our first meeting against you, it was some time ago and I was going by a different last name that day.” He inserted the needle into the port and pressed down on the plunger. “Reston.”

25 years later and Gil could still remember being powerless to stop that young woman from walking out of the station with her husband. He’d known that the next time he saw her she’d be dead he just hadn’t realized how quickly he’d be proven right. “… Amelia.”

Tom pulled back sharply. “What?”

“You were Amelia Reston’s son.” A look of understanding came over his face even as sweat started to prickle at his brow as his body reacted to whatever it was that Tom had injected into him, “I couldn’t stop your father from killing her… and that’s why. I didn’t -“ The inside of his skin itched, like there thousands of ants marching under the dermal layer. His hands began to shake.

“Oh no no no,” Tom soothed, taking Gil’s face in both hands and forcing him to look up into his eyes. “Do you remember that night? You came to my house. Even with that bitch screaming obscenities at you when you dragged away the man that beat her you treated her with such kindness. And then you came and sat with me. Do you remember? You gave me a candy and you told me about how I was strong and brave and how I had done the right thing. I’d never felt safer than in that moment, your hand on my shoulder.”

Gil’s breath was coming in short gasps now, it felt like the ants had made their way up behind his eyes and they were angry, his hands convulsed helplessly in their bonds. ”You wanted me to go somewhere safe but I didn’t want to leave my mom just then. She was so angry. But you showed me I was strong. She threw me out. It was time to be brave, like you said I was, so I loosened the brake line on her car so it would fall out as she drove.” He grinned, “You should be feeling the Haloperidol now. It causes intense feelings of restlessness, involuntary spasms, hallucinations. Mostly though it just makes everything feel… more. So when I do this-“ 

He ran a scalpel along Gil’s collar bone, slicing neatly though. Gil screamed in agony, it felt like fire across his skin, even the blood that poured from the wound felt like it was boiling as it dripped down. Tom leaned down and lapped at the blood, drawing out another scream. Tom grinned, the blood in his teeth making him look even more deranged. He nuzzled against Gil’s neck and enjoyed the feeling of the man convulsing underneath him. Pressing his thumb against the cut elicited a pained groan. “I was already on the train back to boarding school when the line finally fell out and that stupid cow and her stupid husband went off the side of the Hudson.” He huffed a laugh. “Of course you would have thought that her death was your fault. Because you’re good. Every loss is a personal failure, right?

Gil had let his partner deliver the news to the family, unable to bear the prospect of explaining how he’d let the man he had known would kill Amelia go off to do just that. It was not a solace that he’d had the decency to at least take himself out too. But this confession, his mind was struggling to process it, hazy with the drug in his system and the overwhelming pain. “You killed them.”

“I don’t think I would have realized I could have if you hadn’t reminded me of my own strength. I might have continued to play the victim and I would have thanked them for the privilege.” Tom bit down on the crook of Gil’s neck, breaking delicate skin. Gil howled in pain. “For five years, you were the most important figure in my life, despite your absence. And then one day I turn on the television and there you were, hand on another little boy’s shoulder after vanquishing another monster. Did you give him a candy too? Tell him how brave and strong he was and how he’d done the right thing?”

Gil couldn’t answer, his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and he felt like he was stuck in the moment before a fall, when your stomach swoops and gravity disappears.

“That was fine. That was your job. But then the boy was still there. Long after the job was done. Why was he so special he got to stay and you never sought me out that way? Why was I so forgettable?” Tom sighed. “I was angry at first. My therapist told me I had latched onto you to deal with the loss of a father figure and gave me these exercises to work through the your perceived rejection of me. That Christmas I found it was actually a lot more therapeutic to burn her family home to the ground back in Dayton Ohio. Oh how they screamed.” 

Tom began cutting neat straight lines across the first cut he’d made on the collar bone. Gil bit his lip to hold back any sounds. His convulsions were lessening, the ants were receding. He mostly felt clammy now and nauseous, though he wasn’t sure if the nausea was from the drugs or the story. 

“And then the boy was gone. And he was gone for a good long while and just as I was starting to get over you picking him over me he was back. This time working for you officially.” Tom stabbed the scalpel into the ball of Gil’s shoulder and twisted. No amount of lip biting was going to hold back the sound Gil made this time. “Another man might’ve lashed out at the boy, or try and replace him. I managed to work through my feelings, and a few more therapists, evaluating what exactly was the relationship I wanted from you and I realized I didn’t want what you and Whitly had. You looked at him as a son and he saw you as a father. I want more than that. I want you to look at me like I am your everything because you are mine.” 

Tom thumbed a tear away from Gil’s face, a gentle gesture that contradicted the harsh grinding of the scalpel into his shoulder socket. Gil hadn’t realized he was crying. God how many people had died because of him, because he hadn’t seen that that young boy 25 years ago desperately needed help. Why hadn’t he followed up with the kid? He’d let his frustrations at the limitations of his job keep him from doing everything he could and now at least 20 people were dead. A wave of lightheadedness swept over him, he realized there was a lot more blood coming from the wound on his shoulder than he’d expect, Tom must’ve cut too deep and nicked an artery. 

“You look at me like I’m the enemy right now. And that’s ok. That’s what we’re going to work on. Breaking down those walls that make you you and me me until all that’s left is us. What do you say?”

Instead of answering Gil promptly passed out.


	5. Chapter 5

“You should get some sleep.”

Malcolm jerked out of his musings to stare at Dani. “What?”

“It’s been nearly 24 hours. You should get some sleep.” Malcolm laughed disbelievingly. Dani’s frown deepened. “Gil would want you to take care of yourself.”

“Gil isn’t here. He can tell me what he wants when we find him.”

Dani held up a bag of takeout,“At least eat something.”

“The good old Door in the Face technique.” Malcolm made no move to accept the food, “Ask for something big so any further smaller asks seem more reasonable in comparison.”

“1) Telling you to take care of yourself isn’t a big ask. 2) I’m not asking.” She tossed the bag at Malcolm. “I’m not about to get my ass kicked when we get Gil back because I let you run yourself to the ground.”

Malcolm glanced back at the white board, the vacant eyes of all the previous victims staring back at him. “When we get Gil back.”

Dani nodded decisively. “Yeah. When.”

Malcolm crumpled. Dani caught himbefore he hit the ground and leaned him against the wall, taking a seat next to him. He leaned against her comforting warmth as she snatched the forgotten bag of food from his grip. She handed him a fry. “The powers that be think we’re too close to the case. They are talking about passing it up to the FBI. Are they right Bright?”

“No” Malcolm snapped, the idea of being forced off of the case too much for him to even bear thinking about. “No they can’t-“

“Good. Don’t give them reason to do so.” Dani pushed herself up and reached out a hand to help Bright up

“What about you?”

“I already caught my four hours. And JT is due to come back any minute now after he took his break. It’s your turn.”

“It’ll be a waste of time, I won’t be able to sleep.”

“Not with that attitude you won’t” She started herding him to the door. “Go to the break room and meditate for an hour. Something. But you need to take a step away and try and let your mind rest.”

Malcolm shook his head but allowed Dani to bully him out of the room. “It’s like you’ve never met me.”

JT almost ran into them, laptop in hand. “I found something. I was going over the footage from the bullpen.”

Any thought of sleep vanished, Malcolm followed JT back into the briefing room and they all three huddled around the laptop.

“Here.” He pressed play. The camera angle caught row of desks in front of Gil’s office, Malcolm realized it was the camera that they could just see from the hall window in the room they were in. They watched the night janitor pushing his cart into view. Dani frowned.

“That’s not Prescott.”

“No, that’s Taylor Watts, he’s been working here a while. But look at the cart. There’s no bottles or anything on it, just the trash can and a broom.”

“He’s holding a cup.”

Watts stopped at Gil’s closed door and knocked. A moment later Gil answered and the man offered him the cup. Malcolm could see the tea bag string hanging off the side, Gil didn’t drink tea, not since that one faithful night. Gil attempted to refuse but the man seemed adamant and Gil eventually accepted out of politeness. He looked slightly rumpled, probably had been napping off on the couch in his office, he would have hidden the fact he’d stayed in the office all night with the change of clothes he kept in his bottom desk drawer.

Malcolm tried to remember Taylor. He’d seen him a few times when their cases had them working into the wee hours of the morning. A big jovial man, a bit slow but always ready to launch into long monologues about how much he admired the work everyone did. They’d always just chalked it up to working most days in an empty office and just being starved for social interaction. There had been several incidents where Malcolm would duck into the briefing room or the storage closet just to avoid him, enthusiasm was always appreciated but once he got started it was next to impossible to get him to stop. He knew Dani and JT had done the same.

He remembered the disappointed look Gil had given him the one time Gil’d caught him doing it.Malcolm had refrained from pointing out Gil had the benefit of an office that had a door because he hated the weight of that disappointment and wasn’t about to get more of it by being childish.

They watched Gil attempt to end the conversation a few times before he accepted that he could either close the door in a kind man’s face or grin and bear it. He took a large sip of the tea.

A moment later they saw Gil realize something was wrong. He looked at the tea and back to the janitor in front of him. He staggered back and attempted to close the door. Watts blocked him from doing that with his cart, pushing his way into the office and shutting the door behind him. After a few minutes a second man in a janitor’s uniform came into view, pushing a properly stocked cart.

“That’s Prescott.”

Tom knocked on the door. Taylor comes out and accepted an envelope from Tom and takes over the new cart while Tom went into the office and shut the door. The janitor trundles off to complete his rounds. JT starts fast-forwarding.

“Tom stays in there for about 15 minutes.” JT starts it playing normally again. Tom pushes the old cart out of Gil’s office. The garbage can is lidded, they can’t see inside. He rolls off screen in the direction of the elevators. Right before he is out of view Tom looks right into the camera, grins, and tips the brim of his baseball cap. JT stops the recording. “The elevator and parking garage cameras were out from 1am to 5am.”

Malcolm checks the time stamp, 2:30 am. Gil had kicked them all out four hours before with orders to sleep.

  
JT leaned back away from the laptop. “I can get unis out to pick up Watts. He didn’t come in today.”

“No one noticed the cameras were out for that long?” Dani demanded.

JT shrugged, “There’s been some security system upgrades and apparently there’ve been some rolling black outs on the cameras to get their software all up to date for the past couple of weeks.”

“How could Prescott have known that the office was empty but Gil would be here?”

Malcolm looked up at the camera that had captured Gil’s kidnapping. “When did the security system upgrades happen? And who did them?”

Dani followed his gaze, “you think…?”

Malcolm nodded, “I think we’re being watched.”


	6. Chapter 6

Once again Gil woke up, slowly this time. He was back on the bed. His eyes fell on a bag of blood hanging above his head, and his gaze travel down the line to where it connected to the port in his arm. There was a bandage covering his shoulder.

“I have some anger issues I need to work out. Never nicked an artery before. There was a lot of blood.” A hand gripped his chin and turned his head to look into the eyes of his captor. “You almost died.”

“And that would put a real damper on your fun right?” Gil replied sarcastically.

“Exactly.” He saw Gil’s eyes go back to the blood bag. “That’s the second bag. Just in case. Luckily I stocked up. Don’t know if you noticed that the last three gifts I left you all shared your blood type, so you know it’s fresh.”

Gil’s felt a pang in his heart, it was one thing to know that so many people were randomly hurt and killed because of him but it was even worse knowing some of them were specifically targeted. Tom released his face and stepped a way. 

Gil watched Tom set up a camera and tripod at the foot of his bed. “Want to preserve the memories?” He asked dryly.

Tom snorted but didn’t pause in his setup. “I spent so long watching you and the Whitly boy together. I figured I should return the favor.”

“No.” Gil knew it would hurt his team, seeing him like this. But it would destroy Malcolm. The red light blinked on to show he was being recorded and Tom started to advance. “Malcolm, turn it off. Don’t-“ His head snapped to the side as he was backhanded. “Don’t watch this Bright. Please…”

————

“Taylor Watts didn’t check in for his shift last night, isn’t answering his phone. JT and I are going to go checkout his home.”

Bright reached for his coat. “Great, I’ll come with.”

Dani blocked him, “You need to get some sleep.”

Malcolm looked at her incredulously. “After what we just saw you-“

“After what we just saw I still haven’t forgotten that you haven’t slept in over 24 hours now. We need you fresh. Gil needs you on the top of your game ok? If not for yourself, get some rest for him.”

Malcolm gave her a look to let her know what a low blow that was but Dani remained unmoved. The standoff was broken by a rookie cop approaching with a package.

“Mr. Bright? This came for you.”

Malcolm looked the package over, frowning. It was a thin cardboard box, a properly printed label with his name and the police station on it but no return label. “Who delivered it?”

The cop shrugged, “Someone from Admiral Courier services. It went through security already and it’s safe.”

Dani watched how gingerly Malcolm was handling the package. “Do you think Prescott sent this?”

Instead of answering Malcolm just opened the box. Inside was a DVD, ‘Home Movie 1/? Family Bonding’ scrawled in marker on the cover. His hands shook, his mouth felt bone dry and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the disc even as Dani called his name.

“We should give that TARU and see what they can get from it.”

“No.” Malcolm finally snapped from his daze. “No, Prescott wants me to see this. I need to.”

Dani hesitated but eventually nodded, motioning for Malcolm to go to the briefing room to use the dvd player there and gesturing for JT to join them.

Dani is determined to remain objective no matter what she sees on the video, to keep an eye out for any clue that might give them some idea where Gil is. JT squeezed her shoulder, she saw the same determination in his eyes. The same fear too.

Malcolm pressed play on the remote.

All three of their hearts sank, all they could see of the room was a smooth white wall and concrete floor. It could be anywhere. No ambient noise. Gil was on a metal cot, large leather straps holding him in place, stripped down to his underwear. They were all momentarily relieved to see that he looked relatively unharmed, a white bandage on his shoulder and what appeared to be an iv running into his arm the only obvious marks on him. He looked afraid, his eyes darting from the camera to something, or someone, standing outside of the camera’s view.

“Malcolm, turn it off. Don’t-“ Prescott moved into frame and backhanded the prone man. He looked momentarily stunned but recovered enough to continue “Don’t watch this Bright. Please…”

The screams started and Dani couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down her face. JT was steadfastly not looking at the video or anyone else, eyes far like he was trying desperately to be anywhere else. And Bright… tears were rolling free, horrified expression on his face like a mask. His hands were trembling so hard his entire body was vibrating from it and his knuckles were white where they were clutched around the remote. Unable to bear it anymore Dani went and yanked the remote out of Malcolm’s grip and hit the power button. 

Despite the ragged breathing from all three of them the room felt oppressively silent now that the video was off. With an animalistic yell Dani hurled the remote against the back wall where it shattered. JT jerked out of the way to avoid being struck by the flying shards. She sank to her knees and began to sob in earnest. A moment later a shaking palm squeezed one of her shoulder. Another moment and a much larger, steadier hand came to rest on the other shoulder. Not a word was spoken, there were none for this moment.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Perceived threat of non-con, lots of actual bad touching.

Everything hurt. Gil barely managed to keep a pained whine from escaping as awareness came creeping back to him and with it some new ache screaming for attention. Something was moving around down by his feet. He resisted the urge to open his eyes, not yet willing to face whatever horrors were awaiting him.

“I know you’re awake.”

Gil opened his one good eye, the other too swollen to open, to glare at man flittering around the foot of his bed.

“Don’t worry. Not time for another round. In fact I thought we could play doctor.” He waved a brown glass bottle and a handful of cotton sponges.

“Was Nurse Ratched not available?” It hurt to speak and what came out was more of a hoarse whisper than actual voice, but Gil was determined to put up as much of a front as he could for as long as he could.

Grinning Tom began dabbing at the broken skin on Gil’s shin. It stung but Tom’s touch was surprisingly gentle. He frowned as he worked, “Some of these might need stitches. I may have gotten too enthusiastic. I’m sorry.”

“Well you were putting on a show.” Gil rasped.

“Yes, well I have a flair for dramatics.” Gil forced himself not to tense as Tom worked his way up his leg, no need to give the psychopath ideas.

Despite Gil’s self control when Tom reached Gil’s hip he paused and leered lecherously up at his captive. Gil fixed his gaze on the ceiling and concentrated on keeping his breath even. Tom leaned forward and pressed a kiss where Gil’s hip bone jutted out, just above the waistband of his briefs. When that didn’t get a reaction he began to suck at the skin until blossomed into a vivid bruises. He sucked two more hickeys, moving along the brief’s elastic, but when he continued to fail to elicit any sort of reaction he gave up and continued cleaning Gil’s wounds working his way down the other leg. Eventually he turned his attention to Gil’s chest and arms, working meticulously and silently through the marks he had left.

Gil knew it was stupid to say anything but he needed to get something off his chest while he still had the wherewithal and ability to do so. “I am sorry.”

Tom paused in his ministrations, staring at Gil incredulously. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Gil took a deep breath, there was a nonzero percent chance that what he said was going to get him killed. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you needed help when we first met, I am sorry I didn’t get you somewhere safe that night. and I’m sorry that I didn’t check up on you after Amelia died. I let my anger at how I expected her story to end I didn’t see what was in front of me.”

Tom smirked, pulling out a suture kit from his chest pocket and tearing open the wrapping. “You’re saying that so I won’t hurt you again.”

“I’m saying this because it’s the truth.” Gil responded adamantly. He breathed in sharply the first time the needle was pulled through the skin along the edge of one of his larger wounds but eventually the sting faded into an irritating itch and tugging sensation. Gil could see the stitches were tiny and neat. None of the other victims his team had found had received any sort of treatment for their injuries, and as far as they’d been able to find out Tom didn’t have any sort of medical training.Gil glanced at the expertly placed IV port in his arm thinking back to the Haloperidol and wondering where Tom had gotten the practice, how many victims were they still missing?

Tom seemed content let what Gil had said alone and finish his work in silence. When he was finished and the trash was cleared away he climbed onto the cot and straddled the bound man.

“Are you just sorry because people are dead?”

“No.” Gil grit his teeth as Tom grabbed his hips in a bruising grip. The younger man began nuzzling Gil’s neck, sucking and biting the sensitive skin to create macabre collar. “I am sorry they are dead because of- because. But I am apologizing because that night I met a very bright young boy and I let him down.”

Tom looked at Gil with a surprisingly intense fondness. “This is why you’re so amazing.” He shifted up and pulled Gil into a bruising kiss. “God Gil, you may not be perfect but you think you should be and that’s even better. You’re just so…” he made an inarticulate sound and kissed Gil again before going back to what he had been doing and working his way down Gil’s chest. Tom’s hands were back on Gil’s hips, nails embedding into flesh through the fabric.

Gil had figured out what Tom was building up to, but when Tom bit down and began lavingat his nipple the harsh reality really set in and Gil’s blood ran cold. This was really happening, Tom was going to rape him. Tom seemed to be in no hurry, busy marking up the path he travels as aggressively and sloppily as he could. so Gil tried to take the time to come to terms with what was about to happen.

He could beg and plead but that would do nothing but encourage Tom. He could try to think himself somewhere else, his body is trapped but he didn’t need to be mentally present for this event. Malcolm probably knew how to do that.

His musings were interrupted by a particularly sharp bite to the inside of his thigh.

“Stop.” He hated the tremor in his voice. “Please don’t.”

Tom paused and smiled softly, “Oh Gil, when I take you it will because you gave yourself to me. I told you, we’re going to be everything to each other by the end of this. Bound together forever.” Gil had enough self preservation to suppress the urge to snort disbelievingly. “Maybe even by the end of this, if you’re really good, I can bring the Whitley boy in, since he means so much to you. I may not understand it now but we’re both going through a learning process while we build this bond. You, me, baby makes three. What else could need.”

“Leave him alone.”

Tom shrugged. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it dear.” He placed another mark in Gil’s inner thigh before turning his attention to the other one.

A new realization swept over Gil, further cemented when he saw the camera waiting on the table. Even ignoring the marks from the previous round of torture Gil looked wrecked, if Tom sent his team pictures of him now they would all assume he had been sexually assaulted. None of them would handle that well.

“Stop. Tom, please stop.”

Now Tom looked irritated. He pulled out a ball gag from his pocket. “I was planning on only using this during the photo shoot, but I do need to get this done in time to send with the courier service.”

Tom had to take a minute to get back to his self appointed task after he had gotten the gag in place, the sight just too pretty to look away from. Once he was satisfied with his markings he pulled out his pair of scissors and removed the dark briefs and stepped back to admire his work.

Long finger bruises were already starting to darken on the areas he’d held. Little purple hickeys led the views eye down a lovely breadcrumb trail. Topping off the masterpiece, the red ball gag was like a cherry on top of the sundae, lips stretched around it just kicking up the obscenity the scene to just the perfect level.

He grabbed his camera and began snapping pictures.


	8. Chapter 8

Malcolm lay curled up on the leather couch in Gil’s office. The armrest smelled faintly like Gil’s shampoo. He would’ve been laying here when Watts knocked on his door. Malcolm closed his eyes to keep tears from escaping. He couldn’t stop the images from that video flashing through his mind, the screams echoing in his ears. He sat up quickly and swallowed back bile. They had finished processing the scene and there were black marks everywhere in the office from the CSIs had dusted for prints. 

Gil would hate that, he should get some wet wipes and start wiping things down and straightening things out. He knew Dani kept some packets of them in her desk.

They had all retreated to separate corners to pull themselves together after the video. Malcolm had ended up declining the opportunity go pick up Watts. The idea of being near the man who sold out Gil, after seeing the consequences of that betrayal in such graphic detail, filled him with an unfamiliar sort of icy rage. He wasn’t sure he would be able to trust himself, and absolutely nothing could compromise their investigation.

He triumphantly fished out the wet wipes from under extra packets of takeout utensils and condiments in Dani’s desk drawer and returned to Gil’s office. He started first with the picture frames. The first one he picked up, the figure was almost completely obscured under the black fingerprinting powder. They would all be Gil’s fingerprints, he had a ritual every morning where he’d touch the glass in greeting. Carefully wiping, Malcolm revealed the wild mane of curls, red lips stretched in a stunning smile, a white sundress that accentuated an early second trimester bump. Malcolm smiled down at the picture in his hands, that had been a really lovely day. He’d gone to visit the Arroyos and they had headed out for a picnic. Jackie had gotten a new camera and was insisting on documenting everything, no matter how it embarrassed her boys. After their meal she had shoved her camera into Gil’s hands and declared a race for the swings. Jackie always had a glow of life about her but that day in particular Malcolm remembered she had been positively resplendent and Gil had managed to capture her spirit in the photo perfectly. 

Their daughter would’ve been 18 now. Getting ready for college, Jackie would’ve wanted her to stay local while Gil would’ve encouraged her to look out West.

He could feel tears starting to well up again so he quickly put the picture down and worked his way through the others. A few more candids, wedding photos, Malcolm’s graduation photo. He became so absorbed in his task that when his phone buzzed in his pocket it nearly startled him into a heart attack. 

“Hello?”

“Watts isn’t here.” Dani sounded frustrated, “There’s a pile of coins on the dining table but nothing else.”

Malcolm frowned, perplexed, “Coins?” 

“Yeah, they look old. Silver.”

“How many?”

There was a pause as Dani counted them. “Thirty one.”

“Judas.”

“So Prescott is going biblical now?” Dani sighed, defeated. “We’re searching the building and canvasing the area, but if Prescott took him…”

Watts had been their best lead so far. “In the bible, Judas becomes so overwhelmed with grief he hangs himself and is buried in a potters field. Hart Island?”

“I’ll call the 49th.” Dani hang up.

Malcolm’s first instinct was to throw his phone to the ground, the second to sweep his arm out to send the recently cleaned frames crashing to the ground. He managed to control himself enough to settle for releasing his impotent rage in a muffled scream into the crook of his arm.

Dead ends at every turn and he’s here doing nothing.

He composed himself, straightening out his suit jacket and brushing back his hair with one hand as his phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Dani.

‘John Doe this morning hanging in cemetery Hart Island. Susp’d suicide. JT going to id & pick up.’

Malcolm sighed and put his phone away. Unlike the other victims they had a motivation, a decades long obsession and meticulous planning. It was time to revisit his father.


	9. Chapter 9

“My boy.” Martin stood quickly grinning as Malcolm stormed into his room. “What a pleasant surprise!” His grin faltered when Malcolm began pacing instead of acknowledging him but he pressed on. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Malcolm took a couple of deep breaths and forced himself to stand still. His phone buzzed, and so he glanced at it quickly. A message from JT confirming the body found in Hart Island was Watts. “Tom Prescott.” Martin wrinkled his nose in distaste and sat back down at his desk. “We were profiling him as a disorganized power control killer.“

“Yes.” Martin sniffed dismissively, “sloppy and well, to put it kindly, crass.“

Too much energy built up, Malcolm gave into the urge to go back to pacing. “But that never really fit did it?” Malcolm’s hands fluttered like nervous birds as he reviewed everything, “He seemed sloppy because his victimology was all over the place and he left evidence all over the body but there nothing that actually told us where he was. He controlled and humiliated his victims but it never felt like it was about them. Because it wasn’t. Prescott has one victim, and everything, everybody else is just collateral”

“Well color me intrigued.” Martin leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “And do we know who has so captured young Mr. Prescott’s attention?”

“Gil.”

“Oh.” Martin sunk back in his chair, pouting.

“He took Gil from the middle of the precinct.”

“Well” Martin was still sulking but there was a sparkle of interest at that news. “That is very bold.”

Malcolm nodded distractedly, “Now his methodology has changed. He sent me a video of- he’s taunting us. He killed the man who helped him get Gil but he did it quickly and he used biblical symbology when he’s never used any sort of symbology before.”

Martins shrugged, “Was this man also a special obsession, someone he groomed to do his bidding?”

“No. it seems like Watts did it for money.” Malcolms eyes widened in realization. “He may have been helping Prescott but he acted against Gil so Prescott had to punish him. And punish him in a way everyone would know of his unforgivable betrayal.”

“That seems overdramatic just for Detective Arroyo.” Martin scoffed, “What exactly did the dear detective do to earn this devotion?”

“He arrested Prescott’s stepfather for beating his mom. Gil was kind to Prescott, and Prescott became attached.”

“Oh so he’s done this to other families besides ours. That’s good to know.” Martin muttered under his breath. He leaned back in his chair and spread his hands, “So, why are you here Malcolm?”

“I can’t lose him.” Malcolm stopped all his nervous movements. He looked so sad and lost and afraid that Martin was transported back 20 years, seeing a young 10 year old boy standing in foyer of an old house. “I don’t know what Prescott is going to do next. I don’t know where Prescott would go. I don’t know how to save Gil. You hate him, you would want to see him suffer. What would you do?”

“Yes.” Martin scoffed. “Detective Arroyo took everything from me. But this isn’t hate. I’m not the one you need to ask am I?” Malcolm looked bewildered so Martin pressed on, “I know why you don’t want to think about it my dear boy. But you have to admit the parallels are obvious.” Malcolm shook his head and turned away from his father, fingers worrying through his hair. “Come on Malcolm, if you really want to help your detective you can answer this.”

Malcolm leaned against the far wall and slid down to the floor, head in his hands. “It’s not the same. He and I are not the same.”

“Tell me my boy, what would you do next?”


	10. Chapter 10

When Malcolm stepped off the elevator he nearly face planted over the dented trashcan lying in front of the doors. Judging from the trail left behind, it had originated from somewhere in the vicinity of Dani’s desk. Dani was no where to be seen but JT was at his desk, hunched in his seat with a thousand-yard stare.

Malcolm carried the trashcan back to its spot and leaned against JT’s desk. “What happened? Where is Dani?”

“Prescott sent another package. Pictures.” He nodded towards Dani’s desk where Malcolm could see an envelope and some pictures lying face down but when Malcolm moved to get them JT grabbed his wrist. “Maybe it’ll be better if you don’t- its just white windowless walls and a cement floor, they don’t have any clues about where he is at.”

Malcolm frowned and pulled his hand from JT’s grasp. JT didn’t make any further move to stop him. He picked up the photos and quickly spread them over Dani’s desk, taking care not to look at the until they were all spread out lest he lose his nerve.

A strangled sob escaped when he looked at the display before him. He had to turn away when his eyes landed on a close up of long finger bruises spread across Gil’s left hip. “Shit.”

“Yeah.” JT nodded, eyes turned firmly to the floor.

“Prescott… he-“ Malcolm couldn’t get the words out. Given Prescott’s obsession it wasn’t unexpected but the fact that such a violation was inflicted on Gil felt nauseatingly unthinkable.

“Yeah.”

Malcolm took a deep breath to steel himself and turned back to the horror show behind him. If he could look at the photos like they were of someone else he could find a clue, any clue, that could get them closer to ending this nightmare. “He stitched him up.”

JT looked up, “What?”

Malcolm gestured at the images. “The injuries Prescott inflicted before… he’s cleaned and treated them. He didn’t do that for anyone else.” The picture his eyes landed on really threw the whole pretending thiswas someone else game right out the window. It was focused on Gil’s face, he was glaring up at the camera. Every emotion was shining from those expressive eyes. Anger first and foremost, humiliation, exhaustion. Despair. “I…I’ll be back in a minute.”

The men’s restroom was blessedly empty. Malcolm barely made it into a stall before he was heaving into the toilet. There was nearly nothing to come up, he hadn’t eaten since the handful of fries Dani had forced upon him hours ago.

When the heaving stopped Malcolm collapsed against the stall divider, the metal cool and calming against his pounding head. Ugly sobs wracked his body in an outpouring of fear and grief. Nobody should have to go through what he had seen in those pictures but for it to happen to someone as good and dedicated and heroic as Gil… to see the man who was his father in all but blood so vulnerable, it shattered his heart.

His father’s poisonous words earlier, pointing out the obvious parallels that Malcolm had been determined to ignore, kept playin on loop now and were doing nothing to quell Malcolm’s nausea. He couldn’t help but flash back to Isaac, the moment he poured out one of his deepest fears to Gil.

_“After everything I went through as a kid, sometimes I wonder if I would have turned out like Isaac.”_

Gil had been so sure, no hesitation or doubt in his mind.

_“Not on my watch.”_

But if Gil hadn’t remained in his life? Would he have turned out like Isaac? Prescott?

The thought kicked off another round of dry heaving over the toilet.

A slim brown hand slid a water bottle under the partition to him as soon as the heaving had subsided.

“Thanks Dani.” Malcolm gratefully took a sip to rinse the taste from his mouth.

He could hear her settle to lean against the partition. It took a few moments for her to speak. “It’s going to get worse isn’t it? His taunting.”

“Yes, he’s escalating.”

“I don’t know what will happen when we find Prescott. If he tries to surrender… I don’t know.”

“Gil would want us to do what’s right. By the book.”

Dani scoffed. “After what that animal did to him you think that’s still the case?”

“Yes.”

Dani sighed, Malcolm could imagine the fight deflating out of her, “Yeah, he still would.”

Malcolm felt a buzz in his pocket from an incoming text message. When he saw the sender he nearly dropped his phone. “Prescott just texted me from Gil’s phone.”

Dani was up and pulling the stall door open to yank Malcolm out before he fully realized what washappening, looking at the message for herself. “It’s a live stream link.”

Malcolm was grateful she was holding his phone because the way his hands were shaking it would’ve dropped by now. “We should send it to TARU and see if they can trace it, if they can trace Gil’s phone too.”

Dani nodded, herding Malcolm out of the bathroom towards the conference room and forwarding the link with instructions to TARU.

Malcolm hesitated in the door of the conference room as Dani plugged the phone into the TV so they could all watch. He didn’t want to see what that link led to. He wasn’t sure he could bear it.

A large warm hand clapped his shoulder. JT just gave him a curt nod of understanding and made his way to a seat.

Taking a deep breath Malcolm followed. Dani sat on his other side. All three were silent and grim in anticipation for what they were about to bear witness to.

The stream started loading.

* * *

Gil’s entire world was pain. Every muscle in his chest and arms felt like they were stretched to their breaking point. It was almost impossible to think about anything else besides the fire in his arms. He couldn’t even begin to guess how long he’d been in this position, hanging from his wrists tied behind his back. It kept him bent awkwardly, shoulders twisted painfully as they strained to hold his weight. His feet dangled uselessly, mere inches off the ground.

The door creaked open and it took all of Gil’s remaining strength to not sob in relief, desperate for any sort of reprieve.

Tom sauntered in, clutching an old yellow pages. “It’s called Palestinian hanging. I’m not sure what is specifically Palestinian about hanging like this, especially since Palestine is one of the few places this position wasn’t ever really used. But it’s effective isn’t it?”

Tom put the phone book down on the floor and nudged it forward until Gil was able to stand on it. The relief of not having his weight on his arms was immediate but short lived as all his muscles, no longer under constant break point tension,started to scream from the strain of being held in the same position for so long. His hands in particular had gone numb a while ago, and now that feeling was returning to them they were making themselves known. “Technically you still have some time left on the clock but I thought if you’re a good boy and do what I tell you right now I’ll let you down.”

It was almost embarrassing what Gil would consider doing just to avoid being in that position again. “What do you want?”

“It’s very simple. Tell me that you are mine. Heart, body, and soul. You don’t have to mean it today, you will one day , but today I just want you to say the words. Easy right?”

Anything to make the pain end, who knew when he’d get another chance at some respite if he refused now. But it was like his mouth had a mind of its own. “No.”

“It’s just wordsGil. A few simple little words and I let you down.”

Just say some empty phrase and the pain goes away, it’s easy. It wasn’t like he had to hold onto his pride anymore. “No.”

“You know people die from this. They’re left too long and these muscles” He ran his hands over Gil’s chest, “start to die and rot. That makes their kidneys shut down and all of the sudden you’ve got major renal failure. Doesn’t that sound excruciating?”

Just say it, it’s so easy, make this stop. It’s not like it will be true, just say it. “I will not say that.”

Tom grinned widely, he looked almost proud. and captured Gil’s lips in a bruising kiss before stepping back and kicking the phone book out from under Gil’s feet.

The drop was only a couple inches but the force was enough for Gil to feel something snap in his left shoulder and his vision whited out from the agony. His ears were ringing from a loud sound that took way too long for him to realize was his own screaming.

Tom hissed in mock sympathy. “Oh that does not look good. Oh and you popped your stitches here.” He touched along the stab wound in Gil’s shoulder where blood was starting to trickle before again captured Gils moans in his mouth. “I’ll be back in an hour or so, unless you have something you want to tell me?”

Exhausted, angry and in too much pain to think clearly Gil gave into a childish impulse and spat into Tom’s face, a mix of blood and saliva landing just above Tom’s left eyebrow.

For a moment both men were perfectly still. Gil wondered if his situation was about to get somehow worse or if he will get lucky and Tom will finally just kill him.

Tom broke the moment, chuckling lightly as he wiped his face clean and stepping back. “Alright then, I’ll see you later.”

The door clanged shut and the lock slid back into place.

Unnoticed by Gil, tucked in a corner up near the ceiling, the red light of the recording camera blinked off.


End file.
